


Breathe in Happiness

by Yamiga



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamiga/pseuds/Yamiga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In finding happiness in others, Feilong can finally let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe in Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Finder Series.  
> I'm ill.  
> There may be mistakes.

Feilong glares when Akihito takes Asami by the hand. He stands on the ledge of his ship, gazing ahead at the two of them, standing on the yacht. He thinks Akihito looks back at him, but Kirishima shuts the door before he can make sure.

 

A terrible pain over comes him, and he's not quite sure what it is. Well, he knows what it is, he's just too proud to admit it to himself. Though, he figures his pride has already been damaged, it has been lost. So he succumbs to that emotion and clutches the railing of the ship.

 

He is jealous, and filled with envy. He wonders why Asami, so great and powerful, would pick someone like Akihito. He thinks back to the day when he'd first met Asami, when he allowed that man to change his life completely. He is quite curious to know whether or not Asami actually felt something for him. Anything at all. Does he still now?

 

And then he sighs and starts to turn away. If Asami still felt something for him, then this night would have played out differently. He was only a puppet for Asami, verses Akihito whom he truly loved. Filled with light, life and love Feilong could never compare to someone as pure as Akihito. This pain is almost unbearable, and he has to bite back tears.

 

As the waves crash against the ship, he hears shuffling footsteps behind him. He is prompted to turn around and regrets doing so. Now in front of him stands Yoh, bandaged and bruised like a punching bag. The ex-assassin opens his mouth to speak. Feilong hears him, but at the same time he doesn't. He soon finds himself replying with per-programed sentences. He's not even sure what he's saying anymore.

 

He feels even more robotic when he takes Yoh's gun in his hand, and cascades his finger over the trigger. He wonders how easy it would be to just shoot Yoh, after all, there was so much fury stored within him. Just a pull of his trigger.

 

“Go.” He doesn't hear himself speak, but his lips move. “Don't you ever let me catch you again.” He drops the gun and glares at Yoh.

 

“Feilong...” Yoh's voice is only a whisper as he gazes at his former master.

 

The mafia leader turns around and continues to stare into the sea. The yacht is long gone, all that remains is the foam left from the engine. Yoh joins him in silence. He doesn't say anything.

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

For some reason, his head doesn't hurt when he wakes, though he's quite certain he consumed almost six bottles of alcohol. That morning he gets out of bed ungracefully. Tao hasn't gone into his room in months so by now, he's gotten used to looking at his disoriented figure in the mirror. And it isn't just his figure that is disoriented, but his life. He is disoriented. These months have done nothing but brought hell his way.

 

Depression is something he can deal with, but combined with jealousy, Feilong can't quite handle it. He is forced to dream of Asami and Akihito, in moments of their untold passion. He can practically hear the photographer's cries of pleasure, begging Asami to fuck him even harder. Then he sees that cheeky grin and those bright blue eyes. The light of Asami's life. Feilong is certain that he kills Akihito in those dreams, just to see the amount of despair in Asami's eyes. He never knew how it felt to make Asami love him, but he knows how it feels to make Asami hate him.

 

He prefers hate over love.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

 

There is something off about Feilong, but Mikhail can't quite tell. His posture, during their meeting seems sloppy, and odd enough, Feilong is rather distant. He doesn't even point out how annoying Mikhail is in his white suit.

 

The Russian sees the bags under his friend's eyes, and wonders if he's been crying or drinking. After the duration of the meeting, he figures that it's both. He doesn't have to ask why or attempt to force it out of Feilong—he already knows.

 

He envisions that youthful photographer, smiles and all, stomping on Feilong's pride. Even if it was just months ago, it is evident that the pain has left its mark. Mikhail knows now, upon staring into Feilong's empty eyes, that it is not love his friend needs. Affection, yes, but not in a romantic way.

 

Being rather sarcastic, and normally blind to the emotions of others, Mikhail can't quite figure out how to comfort his friend. He knows he can't even begin to attempt to talk to Feilong, that would only make things worse .

 

So as the meeting ends, and while Feilong is leaving the mansion, Mikhail taps his shoulder from behind.

 

“You forgot this.” He speaks, gazing at his shorter friend.

 

It's a rose.

 

Feilong takes it and forces the most fictitious smile ever.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

 

He can't say that he's surprised to see Yoh again, beaten and at the brink of death. Blood pours from open cuts and bruises, and a few stray bullet holes riddle his body.Feilong wonders why he can't kill him. What's stopping him from taking the life of a traitor? Strangely, all his pain and animosity seems to vanish. A heavy weight falls from his chest and he wonders why. His gun, still pointed at Yoh, quivers in his grasp.

 

He can't shoot...he won't shoot. He's tired of being angry at the wrong people when he only has himself to blame. Shooting Yoh will bring him more rage than before, and he knows that even after that, he will still blame Akihito and Asami for it.

 

So he puts the gun in his holster, kneels down next to Yoh and takes out his phone. He phones the ambulance. Afterward, he hovers over Yoh and asks a series of questions. The assassin can barely speak.

 

“Who did this to you?” He demands, but Yoh remains silent. So Feilong tries again. “Why are you in Japan?” Nothing. The assassin just closes his eyes and breathes his final breaths.

 _You’re not going to die._ Feilong thinks, clutching onto Yoh’s pale hand.

 

OoOoOoOo

Feilong knows that in order to erase pain, he needs to face the pain. So he walks around Shinjuku that night, resting assure that Yoh is safe in the hospital. He isn’t quite sure why he is here, any more than he is sure why Yoh is here.

 

He looks up at the city lights and restaurant signs feeling emptiness eat away at his soul. He sees the wealthy people, the blue bloods, walking around or crawling into their limos. They all seem so automatic, so robotic. Elites attempting to distance themselves from the commoners.

 

Feilong wonders if he is just like them. Cold, heartless and distant. He continues, drowning out the sound of the car horns, music and playful shouts. All he hears is the stomp of his own shoes, slowly trailing down the road. That ever so lonely stomp.

 

He wonders if his life style, is to blame for his loneliness. If his need to be more powerful than others has ruined the happiness he could have had. He knows he controls his own fate, and he can so easily change the way things are now. Well not easily. But still. In the palm in the hand, he holds his world. His happiness. He stares at it, as it glows like a miniature sun, and is quite surprised by its radiance. 

Feilong feels guilty, as he shuts his palm, eliminating that happiness. He is too deep to give everything up, and he only has himself to blame. Happiness, he wants to believe, is only for certain people. People like Akihito, and Asami. People who do not know true pain. 

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

Feilong discovers that Yan Tzu is responsible for Yoh's condition. He muses on delving deeper into the subject, but goes against it, for Yoh's sake. He'll look into it on his own. In the meantime, he makes sure that Yoh is healthy. The nurses and doctors tend to him, and make sure that he is okay. They inform Feilong that Yoh won't be able to walk for a few weeks and that he should stay well rested. 

 

When asked about Yoh's insurance, Feilong informs the staff that he will handle everything. Without much question, they tend back to their patient.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

 

Akihito looks like an empty shell. He no longer smiles like he used to, and red rings rest under his swollen and puffy eyes. Feilong, for days, has watched him from a distance, with that camera dangling around neck. He is without Asami, which at first surprises Feilong.

 

But he knows the boy is hurting and he figures that Asami is probably the source of his pain. He doesn't need to ask Akihito how he feels or anything of the sort, because he understand the photographer. He understands that despite the social status and upbringing, he and Akihito are the same.

 

He remembers, how his father grew ill. And how Elder Liu put on such a strong face when everyone was around. However, when no one was looking, when no one could see him, Elder Liu exposed his pain. 

 

Now, looking at Akihito, toying with his camera in the distance, Feilong can see the facade the young photographer erects. The shield that threatens to shatter. He smiles when everyone is around, but breaks when he is alone.

 

Feilong hates that someone else must relive his putrid past.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

 

“Akihito,” The name sounds foreign upon Feilong's lips when he stops the boy in the alley. With his camera clutched in his hand, Takaba looks up at the mafia leader like a child would a bully. At this moment, it is hard for that burning rage of jealousy not to build up within Feilong's chest. He stares at his rival, the one insect that continues to stand in his way. He vividly remembers the night Asami saved him from the gambling ship, and that anger boils ever hotter. 

 

Akihito blinks, upon realizing the malicious intent within Feilong's eyes. He wants to make a run for it, but knows he'll only be caught. His efforts would be pointless. So he stands there, shaking like a rabbit in front of a tiger. He doesn't even care when he drops his camera.

 

Feilong takes a step forward, and reaches in his pocket. With every movement of his foot, Akihito begins to cower. Feilong wonders what is wrong with him, why he isn't attempting to run or escape. Has the witty photographer truly given up? Has Asami really extinguished that flame? He sighs, and allows his anger to melt away. It is a pity to envy someone such as Akihito. And no, not because Akihito is a disgrace, but because he has been disgraced. Feilong would have rather had the photographer curse him out, than stand there like a frightened animal. So , just a foot in front of Akihito, Feilong reaches into his pocket and pulls out the very thing that will end the photographer's suffering. Akihto gasps as Feilong withdraws his weapon. 

 

It is a white envelope. Twelve inches long, unmarked. Feilong gazes at the troubled photographer, and places the envelope in his fingers. He watches Akihito open the envelope, and take out first , a high quality check. He inhales deeply as he gazes at the amount of money, and quickly glances back at Feilong. Next, he takes out another slip of paper. A pre-destined plane ticked. 

 

“Why?” He constructs, staring at the mafia boss.

 

“Because you are so much better than what you are now.” Feilong replies and takes another step forward. And then he does something quite strange, yet at the same time very necessary. He opens his arms, and pulls Akihito into a hug. He only tightens his embrace when the little photographer begins to cry.

 

It feels strange, this hug. It is as if every stone weighing down upon his body is lifted. The pain of seven years is almost nonexistent, and he can finally breathe the breath of life. He can finally forgive the one whom he unrightfully blamed for his pain and agony. 

 

“Good luck.” He says, before he steps back. 

 

OoOoOoOoOo

 

The next few months reveal many things. For one, Feilong discovers that Yoh has emotions. He is not just some stoic, assassin. Not only does he feel sadness and pain, but annoyance and anger. There is a strange way his eyebrow raises, that allows anyone to know he's about to lose his temper, and when he loses his temper, he falls dead silent.

 

Feilong is able to see this side of Yoh, not because he annoys him, but because another Liu has somehow fallen into the picture to complicate things even more. This other Liu, is of course, Liu Yan Tzu. Somehow, through months of fighting and brawling, a treaty had not only brought peace, but a very much alive Yan. 

 

He is no longer interested in Feilong. No, his eyes have rested upon something more mysterious, more alluring. That something happens to be Yoh. He, after trying to steal him, simply visits him in Hong Kong, and apologizes to him for their previous encounter. Because of the rather graceless beat down, Yoh had to endure by Yan Tzu's men, the ex-assassin cannot walk that well. So for the duration of his time out of the hospital, he stays with Feilong.

 

And now, after deciding to play his cards right, Yan Tzu is annoying the hell out of Yoh. Yoh's eye brow raises, with each apology muttered and he turns around on his side so his back faces the older Liu. He attempts to drown him out, but Feilong knows how persistent his brother is.

 

He feels a little warmth in his heart. 

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

Mikhail cannot grow a garden to save his life, and neither can Feilong.

 

But the Russian Mafia leader's aunt loves Petunia's and Mikhail must deliver. So now, a week after Yoh is able to walk again, Feilong finds himself sitting in Mikhail's rather large garden. He watches as the young mafia boss stares at the dirt which has been prepared to harvest the petunia seeds.

 

Feilong remembers meeting Mikhail years ago, when the mafia boss was only fifteen years old. At the time, he himself was eighteen, already an adult. Yet, Mikhail was still taller. He remembers the bond the two quickly made, and how easily they became friends.

 

He almost laughs when he remembers the night Mikhail called him, to proclaim that he'd actually 'had sex!', for the first time with an actual girl. Feilong remembers how much he cautioned him, and warned him that prostitutes would kill him for his money.

 

Now, he looks at how Mikhail walks over the dirt, cursing like a maniac. He lacks the patience to plant. 

 

His little boy has certainly grown, yet, he is still rather childlike. 

 

Feilong quite likes it that way.

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

Yoh doesn't like tradition, but Yan Tzu does. So Feilong sits in his arm chair, smoking his opium pipe and allows the two to fight it out. In the end, Yoh wins and exclaims that he will be wearing a suit. Feilong, raises and eye brow and objects. 

 

“You will either wear a tux, or a Changshan.” He commands, lowering his pipe. 

 

Now the three of them begin to bicker with each other.

OoOoOoOoOoo

 

Exactly a month later, Feilong is fitting a Changshan on Yoh. After months of hospitalization, the ex-assassin has lost weight. He is slender now, and a lot paler. 

Though, he still looks very beautiful.

 

“You look nice.” Feilong ties the sash around Yoh's waist as they both observe his reflection. He sighs and moves some of his hair out of his face. He looks tired, as he frowns. 

 

“Why?” He asks Feilong, and the mafia boss can't help but remember Akihito's pleading question. “Why did you save me?”

 

“We have our reasons for doing many things, don't we.” Feilong crosses his arms and stands behind Yoh. “I saved you because while you are a traitor, you are my friend.” He smiles. “One of my only friends.” He places a hand on Yoh's shoulder. “And you saved me from myself.”

 

Yoh wants him to elaborate, but Feilong's phone begins to buzz. “It's time for you to go.” He takes his hand from Yoh's arm and sighs, realizing how gloomy he looks. “Smile Yoh. It is after all, your wedding day.”

 

The assassin seems somewhat surprised, but shakes his head. He smiles, a small smile, but a genuine one. 

 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Feilong is quite sure he looks like a fool, running around at night with a jar in his hands. But it is all worth it, no matter how ridiculous it seems. Next to him, running like a child, is indeed Tao. He has his own jar in his hands, catching stray fireflies in the same manner as Feilong.

 

“Father used to do this with me.” He manages, holding his own jar filled with fireflies. 

 

“Did you have fun?” Tao seals the lid on his jar and sits in the grass. Feilong, feeling rather tired, sits down next to him.

 

“Yes. But...at the same time, I was also very sad.” 

 

In silence, the two look up at the night sky, filled with stray fire flies. They buzz, and light up, landing and taking off just seconds after. Like orbs of happiness and hope. Feilong smiles.

 

“I never liked to let them go.”

 

“Me neither.” Tao replies, opening his jar. “But it hurts to keep things stored for so long.” The fire flies escape in a swarm of light. “When we let things go, I think it makes us happier.”

 

“I think so too.”

 

And indeed, Feilong feels happier.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yep.


End file.
